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The man nodded slowly, the false memory taking root. "Good luck in the city," he said, addressing the fictional family his mind tricked him into seeing.

Lokan and Carol climbed into the van, which smelled strongly of motor oil and rotting vegetables. Carol wrinkled her nose but said nothing as Lokan started the engine. It coughed, sputtered, then caught with a roar.

"Well," she said as they pulled away from the town, "this is certainly a step down from your Mercedes."

"Beggars and choosers and all that. Besides, it's perfect for this area. No one is going to pay attention to it." Lokan wrestled with the steering wheel as the van pulled strongly to the left, just like its previous owner had warned.

"Are we going to sleep in this thing?" Carol asked, eyeing the filthy interior.

"Hopefully not. I'll call Turner's contact once we're clear of the town. I hope he will be able to arrange lodging for us."

"Preferably with a shower," Carol said. "And clean sheets."

He laughed. "In this area, that's like asking for a five-star hotel, but maybe we'll get lucky." He pulled out his clan phone with one hand while fighting the van's steering with the other.

"Are you calling Turner's contact?" Carol asked.

He shook his head. "I want to give Kalugal an update. He asked me to keep him posted."

His brother answered right away. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. We're on the move. Father sent warriors after us, and two were searching the train we were on. I redirected them, we got off and bought a van from a random guy."

"Be careful," Kalugal said. "Navuh has chemically enhanced warriors, and the ones the clan captured were somewhat resistant to compulsion. Toven had to push to break through, at least with one of them."

"Great." Lokan let out a breath. "Just what I need."

"Navuh is probably worried about what you know and what you can reveal. That's why he sent men after you the moment your bodyguards reported your sudden travel plans. He's not stupid, and he has good instincts."

"I know." Lokan grimaced. "I spent a thousand years with him, and I know him much better than you do.

Still, I had no idea about the chemist and the program to enhance warriors that he was running for over a year.

I was completely in the dark about that, so it would seem that I don't know much after all. "

"Take your time, Lokan. Let him think you're rushing for the nearest exit while you actually go to ground."

"Easy for you to say," Carol muttered. "You're not riding in a van that smells like something died in it."

Kalugal laughed. "You'll get used to the smell. In an hour, you won't even notice it."

"Right," she grumbled. "I think I'm going to empty my bottle of perfume on this thing."

"The glamorous life of international fugitives." Kalugal chuckled. "Look, take the long way around. Maybe even double back south for a bit before heading north again. The last thing Father will expect is for you to move away from your destination instead of toward it."

Lokan saw the strategic sense in that, but one look at Carol's expression told him she wasn't on board with extending their time on the road, especially in this van.

"We'll consider it," he said. "Right now, we need to find somewhere safe for the night. I can call the same contact Turner gave me before, or perhaps he has another one in case the first one sold us out. Not that I think he did that, but to be safe."

"I'll call Turner," Kalugal said. "They'll reach out to you."

"Thank you."

After ending the call, Lokan glanced at Carol. "You heard him."

"No," she said flatly. "I want to get to the village as quickly as possible. The sooner we are there, the sooner we will be safe." She gestured at the van's interior. "I can't stand this. Whatever this is."

"Fermented vegetables," Lokan offered. "With notes of diesel fuel and wet dog."

Despite herself, Carol laughed. "You forgot the undertones of despair and broken dreams."

"Ah, yes, how could I miss those?" He reached over to take her hand. "We'll find somewhere clean to stay tonight. I promise."

"With a shower," she emphasized. "A hot shower. That's non-negotiable."

"With a shower," he agreed. "Though in rural Mongolia, 'hot' might be optimistic."

She sighed, settling back in the cracked vinyl seat. "How did we go from a Beijing penthouse to this in less than forty-eight hours?"

"Careful planning and excellent life choices," Lokan said dryly.

"Clearly. Though I suppose it could be worse." She squeezed his hand. "At least Lucy has her Ricky."

He chuckled. "And they are riding into the sunset in what smells like a compost heap."

"That's why Ricky better find that shower soon, or Lucy's going to make him sleep in the stinky van."

It was getting dark when Lokan's phone chimed with a message. He read it and smiled. "Turner's network came through. They found us a place forty miles to the north of here."

"With a hot shower?" Carol asked hopefully.

Lokan reread the details. "Private bathroom. That's all it says."

"I'll take it."